Batman and Robin Reborn
by DJ Comicbook
Summary: From Tim Drake's POV, set in a near future. This is a short series about what Batman is all about and if he can be replaced by anyone. Some implied gore and mild language. Read and Review since its my first post.
1. The End of The Knight

Part One  
At the End of the Knight  
  
Set a few years down the road, but only a few. Tim Drake is 19, Spoiler is 18 (right?).   
Bruce Wayne is 55. The story detail are at the beginning of the story, told from Tim   
Drake's point of view. An important thing to remember here is Tim Drake IS NOT Robin   
and doesn't even consider himself Robin anymore.  
Sequels and Prequel on Request.  
  
  
  
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How did it all start?  
  
I can't really remember too well. It was gradual, just enough where I could overlook it.   
Bruce used to always be able to tell my limits. I know where the turning point was though.   
It was Steph. My girlfriend at the time. I'll always remember when she first called me   
Tim. Any other circumstance would have put me on Cloud 9. On some level, of course, I had   
badly wanted her to know. But it had to be right, Batman had to approve. I guess he didn't   
think I had to approve. I can imagine the stupid look that must have been on my face.   
After that big speech to her and Spoiler she had still not understood why I had been so   
upset, so angry, so betrayed so...  
  
That was years ago. I've been around the globe, trained with some of Bruce's old mentors.   
Some new one's he didn't know. I had the tricks of the trade and then some. Now, after   
three years, I was back. I didn't know what was going to happen. I knew something was   
wrong with Bruce, and I wasn't about to be one of those kids who never got to say goodbye   
to their parents who died on bad terms. I don't actually think Bruce is dying, but it was   
time to be home.  
  
'Chuka-Doom!!!!!'  
  
An explosion ripped the Gotham Skyline. One of the higher floors of an office building had   
just erupted into a mushroom cloud, an urban volcano left ash and cinders floating in the   
night air. Somehow, Tim wasn't surprised. He felt strangely at home as he leapt from roof   
to roof. His jumping range had almost tripled since he left Gotham. But he never used his   
full abilities unless the were all completely called for, a little effort for a little task.  
Tim wasn't Robin anymore, that title had undoubtedly been given to Stephanie the Spoiler.   
He was Tim Drake that and that only. He dressed in dark sweats. These sweats concealed   
a few extras which he liked to carry with for doing battle and solving crimes, but he was   
just a guy in a hood and some miraculous sunglasses of his own design which improved his   
night vision.   
  
A swift majestic flip landed Tim on top of a Gargoyle across the street from the damaged   
building. Tim slid under the wing of the Gargoyle and looked around. He saw the hoods,   
descending on a window cleaner's ledge, hop off and jump into their get away car.  
  
"4... 3... two..." Tim stopped counting, but where he would've said 'zero' or 'now' a Black car sped by. Not just any car-THE Car. The Batmobile had just flew by, but at this point assuming Batman was driving it would be too presuming. Tim heard someone sneaking up on him. They were using Batman's techniques… actually they used Master Tsung's techniques. He knew who it was, that's why he was so surprised when they spoke to him, from the others side of gargoyle.   
  
"Tim... Robin..."  
  
The voice was beautiful.... soft, luscious, layed with hesitation and a strange need to   
hold back, as if letting her voice come out would shatter every bit of glass for miles   
around. She moved around the massive wings which hid Tim Drake, who moved darkly and   
completely noiselessly around the other side and stood up on top of the gargoyle as   
Batgirl looked it.  
  
"Tim is fine."  
  
Startled she looked up. "You... you... you look different."  
  
Tim smiled, the first time in a while as he pulled back her mask, which now was solid   
black without so much stitching and stuff. "As do you."  
  
She smiled a bit, pulling on her mask again. "Why are you back?"  
  
He knew she knew why, so he ignored the question. "How is the old Bat?"  
  
Silence hit with a devastating awkwardness.  
  
"I have to handle this." She motioned toward the ceiling where she would scavenge for   
clues to see who might have done this. As she turned back towards Tim she didn't see him,   
he was already skipping from roof to roof. Headed in the path that the Batmobile had   
taken. He hadn't clocked himself in months. He was satisfied to know that he impressed   
his own self with his running speed. Outside of his bi-daily running routine he rarely   
broke a sweat... that was bad, it meant he needed more strenuous workouts.   
  
Tim vaulted off the edge of a building where he saw water from a knocked away hydrant spray   
in the air. He landed against the opposite wall and flipped forward, landing squarely on   
the stream of water until it slowed his descent, he flipped off and landed softly in the   
shadows of a closed electronics store. A car had been plowed through a storefront and out   
hopped two thugs. They were boloed down easily. But even in that short time span I knew   
they were only decoys who had done their job. Out of the glass of another window leapt   
the real threat. He was big, ugly, mean, and no one would have thought to make him boss   
over anyone, even thugs. Which means he wasn't alone.  
  
It was only then that he had registered who the good guy was here. Robin. Not just any   
Robin, but a young female with blonde hair. She cut her hair! Robin had loved that hair,   
now it was spiked in a short but cutting edge style. He looked back and forth. No Batman.   
No Nightwing. No Azrael. Just Steph as Robin. Tim felt like running to her side, to   
rescue her instantly, to take on the whole world by her side, but Tim wasn't Robin anymore.   
Steph wasn't Spoiler. Things were different, he could already sense how THEY were   
different as Robin unleashed some Batarangs on her sudden attacker.  
  
Killer Croc had laughed as the 'rangs scratched him. He swiped at her. Whew, she was fast.  
  
Robin backflipped, bouncing off of the Batmobile she had driven here. Croc crashed into   
it, but he wasn't slowed at all. The mist in the air from the broken hydrant invigorated   
him. Croc felt like he was in his own element. Robin landed and threw a sweep kick at   
the big man-thing. It was right in his weak spot and he stumbled, but facts were facts.   
Robin was a little over 100 pounds. Croc was a little over 500. Even as he dropped to   
one knee he grabbed her, wrapping his fingers around her abdomen he lifted her into the   
air, holding her high in the half moon's light. Cackling...  
  
Tim wasn't sure whether to act or not. Croc was crazy, he was killer and he had been   
attacked, but Robin had presented herself as a minor threat-even after three years of   
being Robin she was acting like a novice. Croc saw this, but didn't care as he prepared   
to slam the teenage girl into concrete.  
  
Tim slowly removed a smoke bomb from his pouch. On the count of three... one... two...  
  
"Croc-y!" A young girl's voice broke through the night air. It was Baby Doll, a midget   
first class with a sick crush on the jolly green joke. "Croooooooc-y!" She screeched,   
annoying but you could tell she was just excited, not alarmed or anything. "Put that   
little biwdy down! She's not going to huwt you?"   
  
Croc could care less. "But I'm gonna hurt her!" He grunted. 'oooh, good one croc' Tim   
felt his old sarcasm come back to him. He also noticed as Robin pulling something out   
of her pack. A trick of Batman's which had worked on the croc before. Tim knew his   
lenses were polarized and watches as Croc slammed the girl towards the concrete. In the   
same instant She threw something at his face. Not a smoke bomb, but a flash bomb.   
Hundreds of thousands of lumen exploded in the night, blinding Croc and Doll. The   
street looked brighter than noonday for several seconds after. Tim heard the sirens and   
hoped that The police could take down a blinded croc. Quickly he cuffed Baby Doll to a   
curb grating, to make sure she didn't slink away and appeared as a silhouette over the   
beaten and possibly broken Robin.  
  
"Who?" was all she could get out before she passed out. Tim checked her wounds: a broken   
arm and a broken rib, so he shouldered her very very carefully and put her in the Batmobile   
passenger seat. He hopped in and drove away as the flash's effects turned the instant   
dawn into darkness which swallowed up the legendary car.  
  
PART 2  
  
  
The Batcave. A dark and mysterious place. Even more of an Urban Legend than Batman   
himself. The home of Gotham's Demon. But even demons grow old. This is not to say that   
in a few years' time Bruce Wayne, who could kick anyone's butt at 50, became a decrepit   
old man. But the fact remains that he began to pay his dues of the tortures he put   
himself through as a young man. But regardless of his physical condition... regardless of   
his mental condition, he was still Batman... wasn't he?  
  
Tim parked the Batmobile in his usual spot. Alfred strolled up to the car, even showed   
just a hint of slowing. "Miss Stephanie, I..." Alfred's jaw dropped as Tim stepped out   
of the car.  
  
"Alfred, nice to see you again, please attend to Robin's wounds for me." He walked by   
naturally. He headed straight for the Batcomputer, where he knew beyond knowing that   
Bruce Wayne would be sitting there, both hands together in the air forming an isosceles   
triangle as the old man considered his next move.   
  
As Tim entered the area, approaching Bruce from behind the old man spoke first.  
  
"What took you so long, Drake?" He spun in his chair. Behind him scenes of Gotham flashed. The police department. Bullock in his office, Robin's life signs, Oracle's place.   
  
Tim had no answer. He had gotten here when he felt like it. He wasn't going to let the old   
man make him feel inadequate. Bruce would probably want nothing more than to make Tim's   
training seem inferior to his own.  
  
"I've been around. " He stood there deadpan.  
  
No words, just silence. What words could express the emotions here? The Bat family wasn't   
known for a lot of gushing. And when the lines of communication stopped, one was sure that   
the topic would come up later, but until then it was down to business.  
  
Bruce initiated this. "Croc escaped the cops but Azrael was able to catch him..."  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing sending Stephanie out on her own?" He couldn't let   
Bruce think he was over emotional, so he stopped his raving there.  
  
"She's handled things like that on her own before." Bruce was so deadpan and emotionless it   
was scary.  
  
"Yeah, right, the day Spoiler takes out Killer Croc and Baby Doll on her own is the day..."   
Tim smiled a bit. She wasn't Spoiler anymore, was she?  
  
"She must have been distracted, something was on her mind."   
  
"I don't care, it doesn't matter." Tim folded his arms, almost condescendingly. "Why   
weren't you out there? I remember Batman and Robin being a partner ship." Tim decided not   
to bring up Batman's betrayal before Tim left, lets go one issue at a time.  
  
"I'm an old man Tim."   
"So is Jay Garrick, and the Sentinel, and Wildcat... and Ra's Alghoul."  
"I'm dying Tim..."  
"So am I and every other human, I just have longer to go than you."  
There was a dead silence.  
"Of Cancer."  
Bruce nodded slowly. Solemnly. But he was always solemn. Bruce was letting it sink in   
to Tim.  
  
Tim's brain began to run through the same trials that Bruce's had a couple years earlier.   
"I figured, you, being a marvel of modern fitness could handle it. People have overcome   
cancer before, if anyone can do it its you." Tim knew what Bruce would say, but he   
couldn't say it himself, there had to be SOME conversation.  
  
Bruce nodded, as if he knew all this. "I could do either one of two things. Dedicate   
my life to fighting it. That would take lots of sleep, a proper regiment, staying up   
during the day and sleeping at night. Lessened exercise, laughing a lot-things that   
would eliminate my life as Batman. The second is chemotherapy along with a smaller   
lifestyle change. Its made me too weak to fight. Everyday I fight hard to keep my mind   
working like it needs to. Like it HAS to."  
  
Tim laughed, but darkly, evilly. "You'd rather DIE than take a break from being Batman?   
You're a fool, Wayne."  
  
Bruce nodded, "And I have a family of fools following in my footsteps, including you."  
"I don't follow you anymore."  
"I didn't say follow me, but you can't deny you long to walk the same path I walk, just   
better."  
  
Tim was silent.  
  
Alfred piped up. "I have to take this opportunity to welcome Master Tim home, will you   
be staying."  
  
Tim laughed. "Maybe, but keep in mind that I faked my death, Tim Drake is dead to the   
world. With a little creative programming however Alvin Draper could be created, but I   
doubt he would live here at the Manor."  
  
A lot of ifs Tim suddenly thought. Was he really back to become a crimefighter? He wasn't   
going to put on a costume and just start fighting again. He couldn't be just another   
Nightwing. He had come back to iron things over with Bruce, and so he decided to handle it   
right now.  
  
"Bruce..." he skipped any melodrama. "You betrayed me years ago. I still hate you for it,   
and your motivation was weak. What was it that really let you tell her who I am?"  
  
Bruce almost laughed, he stood up, but slowly. His tiredness, his weakness was evident.   
Tim noticed that the hair on his head was a toupee, that Bruce had blotches on his skin.   
He looked more wrinkled and messed up than ever before. "I knew that I was going to get   
old. Just not this soon. I wanted to test you, to see if you were loyal to me   
unconditionally. I knew that the girl was gullible to a certain degree, I could capture   
her mind and seal anyone else out..." Bruce paused, he knew how cold he sounded, but Tim   
understood, in this business you were used. You used yourself and those around you,   
whether you loved them or not. Tim knew that Bruce had loved Steph as his own daughter,   
but he couldn't do a thing about it, the mission couldn't stop. "You understand too much   
psychology, you know, more or less, exactly WHY I do what I do. Even Nightwing can't   
grasp that, he has his own reasons. Alfred gets it, but doesn't like it. You understand   
and embrace the logic of Batman. I couldn't have my partner be my rival, so I tested you. You proved that Robin was independent of Batman, but you and I know that that is not possible, so you left."  
  
Bruce had summed it up so coldly that anyone else's feelings would have been hurt. Tim   
cackled. A thought flashed before his mind. He felt the thought before, but had easily   
shoved it aside. Now it pressed his brain painfully, but he couldn't let it out now.  
  
"If you don't mind, Bruce I'll stay here for a few days, get information on my old   
contacts and move off on my own." Tim nodded. Bruce nodded back. Tim headed towards the   
infirmary.  
  
  
PART 3  
  
Tim ran his hand over Steph's short hair. Her main armor had been taken off, so she was   
down to basics, she had her side wrapped and set. Her arm as well was prepared to be   
casted. She moaned as Tim ran his hand over her forehead while gently touching her side.   
He could have prevented this, but did he not want to? Did he want her to get hurt? Of   
course not, but he HAD to know if she could hold her own. He had made a mistake, she was   
probably concerned about Bruce, which meant that Bruce was a little sicker than he had let   
on.  
  
Steph eyes opened slowly. "Oh... Tim..." She was dizzy, she probably thought she was   
dreaming. "Tim, I want to tell you everying..."  
"Sssshhh..." Tim put a finger over her lips.  
"Things are going to be different aren't they?"  
Tim smiled and looked down at her lovingly... was she still the same person?  
"I tried hard to be a good Robin, Tim... I really did..."  
Tim nodded as he placed a hand on her forehead and slid it softly over her eyes. "Good   
job, girl, just rest, okay?"  
By the time he removed his hand, the tired weak girl had fallen back unconscious.  
  
Tim walked back out, he headed up towards the stairs. The night was still somewhat young,   
but Tim could work during the day just as easily, its not like he needed to rush.   
  
"Tim..." Bruce called as Tim headed upstairs.  
Drake knew that Bruce wanted him to come, but the fact that he was not Robin must be   
enforced.  
  
Silence hung as Tim stood still and waited.  
"I need your help, come here." Bruce gave in easily.  
Tim satisfied approached the Bat computer.   
  
The main screen was filled with the awful visage of the Clown Prince of Crime. The Joker   
was in full effect in Gotham. It seemed a lot of evil menaces were all hyped up now that   
Batman was slowing down.  
"Helloooooooooooooo Gotham!!!" The white faced murderer cooed. "And Hellooooooooo Batman!"  
Tim always kinda like the way Batman rolled off the nutcase's tounge. "This is your   
friendly neighborhood Joker here, bringing mirth and laughter and the best of punchlines   
to Gotham LIVE and in person, for NO CHARGE!" Cackling ensued. "Except for a small expense   
which I will withdraw myself from the main branch of First Gotham Bank!" More cackling as   
Bruce's brow furrowed. Tim was on the verge of thinking it funny, having been so far   
removed from the game. "Now..." Joker became marginally more coherent. "At 3 this morning,   
I'm going to have to kill three security guards, but, trust me, they'll be a lot happier   
than those poor folks who live within five blocks of the bank. Y'see I've got the ultimate   
punch-line with me and I'm looking for someone to share the joke with. See ya there,   
pointy-ears!"  
  
The screen went static and turned back to channel 3 news, featuring some startled reporters,   
commenting stupidly about the green haired man's ego.  
  
Bruce stood up and walked towards the armory. "It's 1:45, correct?" Tim shook his head.  
"I don't care who you are or how long you've been fighting crime, you're not going   
anywhere..."  
"You think you can stop me, little man?" Bruce was becoming very confident, despite   
his disability.  
  
Tim became frustrated and looked about for Alfred, who was somewhere upstairs. Tim paged   
him and then punched some buttons on the computer.  
  
"Hey Barbara."  
  
"Oh, my God! Tim!" She was so shocked, she didn't know what to do with herself.  
  
Tim nodded. "Thanks, but I need you to talk to Bruce... he's..."  
  
Batman emerged from the armory in full costume.  
  
Barbara was just as shocked at this. "Bruce, you CAN'T! I'm calling Nightwing, Azrael's   
already out!"  
  
Bruce just stared at her, then at Tim. They both knew that Joker would settle for no one   
but Batman and a replacement might make things much worse.  
  
Tim folded his arms. "Batman... you have got to get real... Joker will kill you if he   
can!" Tim suddenly realized that he was asking Batman to give up the game forever. If   
Bruce didn't go out now, tonight, why would he ever go out again? Tim looked at Barbara,   
then at Batman.   
  
"Miss Gordon, get Nightwing to First Gotham five minutes ago. Contact Batgirl and tell   
her to meet us there." Batman smiled a bit.  
  
"Master Tim..." Alfred interrupted. "I urge you to reconsider. Master Bruce cannot   
survive a confrontation with the Joker."  
  
Tim was serious. He knew that, sort of. He looked to Batman, who was emotionless as   
well. He had always been prepared to die. He was going to do so soon, he would love   
nothing than to go down fighting the Joker. Tim turned back to Alfred, about to say   
something. Barbara interrupted and both looked at the batcomputer.   
  
"Gentlemen." She began. "No one, save Jason Todd, has lost as much as me to this game,   
physically." She let her sentence hang. "Losing yourself to this mission is scary, but   
it is all engulfing. In the same position I think all of us would do the same thing as   
Bruce, but... I think on this one, on this level, we are wrong. Bruce still has a chance of   
recovering and eventually even becoming a fully functioning Batman again. Bruce, you..."  
  
The group looked toward where Bruce had stood. He was gone. So was one of the Batcycles.  
  
"Shit." Tim punched his hands together as his brain went into overdrive. "Azrael and   
Nightwing are outclassed by Joker, he's too damn smart, and he knows enough about their   
backgrounds to get into their heads. Barbara, where's the girl at?"  
  
"Batgirl is enroute, she'll arive, on foot, about the same time as Batman. Azrael is   
already there, Nightwing is close behind, turns out Joker had some activity going in   
Bludhaven.  
  
Tim nods, looks to Alfred, then to the Armory.   
  
"Will you be wearing your red and green this evening, Master Tim?"  
  
Tim shakes his head. "I'm not Robin... not by a long shot. Tonight I am nobody. No name,   
no reputation, no nothing. Just a guy in black." Tim hopped on a bat-cycle. He looked   
over his shoulder at Alfred. The old man was so dedicated, so passionate, so supportive   
of this madness. How could the man do such a thing? Robin started the cycle but saw   
someone standing in front of it!  
  
PART 4  
  
"Good evening, young detective."  
Out of the shadow lurked the man truly called a demon. A man of great age, experience,   
wealth and power. On his right walked a large bodyguard named Ubu. On his left stood a   
beautiful young woman named Talia. He was the one and only Ra's Alghoul. He commanded a   
powerful presence. His entrance itself set Tim in awe. He slowly backed away, still on   
the cycle.  
  
"Ra's Alghoul I presume."  
  
The old man nodded. "Young detective, I am here to proposition."  
  
"I know your game old man, Bruce didn't take your offer, I guess I'm the most convenient   
option right now. I trust you've already deduced that I could care less."  
  
The old old man was silent for a moment. Talia spoke now. "My father is not a hard man.   
His aging has softened his heart. He still understands that he needs a replacement and   
has learned of my lover's sickness. He offers new life to Bruce."  
  
Tim revved the engine of his bike. "Well... you can take that up with him when he gets   
back."  
  
"What if he doesn't get back?" Ubu chimed in grimly.  
  
Tim almost flinched, but was able to let the statement roll off as if it hadn't affected   
him. Tim put the visor on his helmet down. "Then you three a just a bit jacked aren't   
ya?" With a wheelie and a wave to alfred, Tim sped away.  
  
Blazing through the streets of Gotham memories started coming back. Tim remembered riding   
through here on his cycle, then in his car, the Redbird. Tim used to swing these skies   
every night. He still remembered his patrols like the back of his hands. Batman. Young   
Justice. Spoiler.   
  
Tim got angry. Everything had changed. Everything was falling apart. He could feel it   
in Barabara's voice. If Bruce knew he was coming, why hadn't she? Bruce himself was   
losing it. He said himself his mind was faltering. And guess what happens to Batman when   
his mind falters? Tim wasn't sure but he knew it would involve pain and death. Even Ra's   
Alghoul knew things were screwy, and he didn't look to good himself.  
  
MEANWHILE  
  
Nightwing was fast and furious. He knocked around the Joker's goons like paper dolls.   
Having Azrael backing him up didn't make the job any more difficult. The two valiant men   
strolled through double doors into a nightmare of broken dolls dented toys.   
  
"Oooh, Mistah J! It's tall dark and greusome and the prodigal bat boy!" Harley Quinn   
turned, placing her hands on her face in surprise. It was always hard to tell if she were   
sarcastic or crazy. In putting her hands on her face however she had dropped leashes of   
two hyenas. Immediately the blazing blades of Azrael extended and ignited.  
  
"He's going to barbeque the babies!!!" Harley leapt towards the man but Nightwing   
intercepted her midair with a kick to her gut. Harley hit the ground crumpled. The hyenas   
took to the air and a ruthless avenging angel turned the two dogs into buffalo wings. It   
was pretty dang nasty, seeing bloodied animal parts hit the ground. Harley screamed, a   
high shrieking sound which she didn't stop for the next few minutes.  
  
"Baaaaad kids!" Joker, in a big throne-like swivel chair-he held a bazooka.   
  
"The Baaaaaaaaaaabieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesss!! Baaaaaa..." Harley screamed as Nightwing   
yanked her up and ran sidwards, toward cover. Azrael on the other and ran forward as   
Joker fired the Bazooka, The man who used Jean Paul Valley's body slid around the shell   
and lunged at joker with bloody blazing blades attatched to his arms. Joker laughed as   
his entire throne was suddenly engulfed in greenish smog. Nightwing slammed Harley Quinn   
in the back of the head, instead of knocking her out, she came to her senses and started   
beating the snot out of him with her pumped up powers. She was incredibly powerful and   
dangerously aggressive. It was all Nightwing could do to stay a few steps ahead of her   
attacks, occasinally he was able to trip her up and get a good lick in.  
  
Out of the green cloud flew backwards a laughing Azrael, he slammed into the wall, dazed   
and the cloud dissipated. "Oh well, looks like I have an appointment to get to, wouldn't   
want to keep ol batsy waiting."  
  
In the main doorway stood Batman and Batgirl.   
  
"You know, this side kick thing is really bothering me, you're not allowed to change until   
I KILL them!"  
  
No laughs.  
  
"Heh. Oh, well, Batman, I guess you want to stop me from my big punchline! That's okay...   
Harley!"  
  
Nightwing flew into a wall and slumped, right next to Azrael. Harley Quinn popped up, as   
hyper as ever, she skipped over to her puddin, giggling as she hung on him.  
  
"Joker. The game is over."  
  
Joker just laughed and laughed, but Bruce continued.  
  
"Tonight one of us dies..."  
  
Joker stopped laughing. "Aww... Batman... do we HAVE to have all the melodrama?" Batman   
was unchanging as always.  
  
Joker jumped up on his throne and spun, thinking deeply. He stopped, his cold white face   
on his gloved hand. That ridiculous pin-stripe purple suit screamed insantiy. "Okay." He   
simply chimed, then burst into laughter as he pulled out his bazooka! "Good night Batman." Batman moved to dodge but Joker suddenly aimed at the downed Azrael and Nightwing, who were getting up slowly.  
  
Azrael acted first, grabbing Nightwing they flung themselves through the window. By the   
time Joker was about to fire again, Batman had picked him up and tossed him across the   
room. Harely attacked bats suddenly without warning, Bruce knew he wasn't strong enough to   
fight her, Batgirl had snared one of Harley's legs though and yanked her away. The two   
women went into an amazing battle, kicks too fast for a camera to catch flung back and   
forth as the girls' best training was put to the test. An even match.   
  
Batman descended on Joker who rolled away, squirting something which Batman dodged,   
throwing two batarangs, one cut off the flower, the other knocked a gun out Joker's hand   
before he could fully draw it, Batman picked up the clown and slammed him against the wall.   
"It's over for you Joker."  
  
Joker laughed. He couldn't believe it, he wouldn't dare. Joker expected Batman to want a   
punch line. Batman knew that he couldn't kill the man in cold blood, but if he didn't, who   
would? Joker shrugged and backflipped, kicking Batman in his jaw. Batman stumbled   
backwards. Joker continued his onslaught, launching punches at the bat. Two connected.   
Batman caught the third one by the fist. He crunched Joker's knuckles together, the clown   
kneeled in pain. Even as he struggled though, the madman of Gotham drew out a small   
electronic device, like a remote control. A push and a beep followed by a maniacal laugh   
signaled to Batman that something very bad had just taken place.  
  
With a deliberate effort Batman tossed the Joker aside and ran to a curtain, pushing it   
aside he found a control panel. Across this board was a monitor... it was a device, some   
sort of military weapon with the   
Power to level city blocks by supersonic or subsonic bursts. Joker lifted a pipe high to   
smash Batman in the head as he messed with some controls. Batman reached up and back,   
catching the pipe on the fly, he spun, twisting it, and backhanded Joker in the face.  
  
"Now... where is this thing?!"  
"Downstaaaaaaairs!" Joker cackles... "But, Bat-boob, its 2:58! That means we'll all be   
biting the big one together!"  
Batman grimaced and narrowed his eyes. As he drew a bolo and wrapped up Joker, hanging the clown   
on the wall.   
"Batman! you're not dying up to your prooooomise!"  
  
Batgirl and Harley continued exchanging blows at a rapid pace. Batgirl knew, according to   
Oracle that Azrael and Nightwing had their hands full downstairs, but Harley wasn't exactly   
helping the process, but she couldn't leave the madgirl alone with Batman. Sweeping a   
flurry of Batarangs with chords attatched into the air, Batgirl leapt out of the broken   
window, wrapping and pulling Harley with her. Harley broke her bonds and managed to land   
on the street safely as Batgirl used outcroppings to jump down to the street.  
  
Upstairs Batman ran towards the door, but a switch thrown by Joker shut it, Batman ran   
towards the window but Joker had already tackled him. "Noooo!!! You're not dying without   
me!!! It's the greatest punch line ever!!!!"  
  
Batman flipped Joker away, leaping upwards and facing the man.  
"So who dies tonight?"  
  
Tim Drake had seen the area already. He bounded through the open glass window. He was   
nobody, leaping into one of the most meaningful battles of all time.  
  
The two men fought each other boldly. Tim checked the time, he heard police sirens. This   
thing was almost over. Batman was weakened though, his chemotherapy had weakened his   
endurance to a point where he was in poor form and it was reflected concretely everytime   
the Joker landed a punch.  
  
"You're getting old, Bats! Maybe a nice retirement home will do you good?" Batman uppercut   
hard... and missed, Joker socked him again. "Tell me about the Bat grandkids!" Batman and   
Joker began to wrestle, strength to strength Batman had the upperhand, but barely.  
  
"C'mon." Joker mocked. "The great Batman... reduced to an old bag of rotting flesh? No   
great words? No miraculous cure from the Bat-belt? Say SOMEthing Batman! We're about to   
die! This is the LAST PUNCHLINE!" His voice was getting high pitched, he began to talk in   
laughter.  
  
Tim moved to help but he couldn't. He was frozen in his footsteps by the whole scene.   
He ran at the Joker quickly, preparing to attack him. He leapt in the air, some rope   
caught his foot and he was yanked backwards toward Harley Quinn, grapple in hand, standing   
at the edge of the window. Tim used his momentum in a speedy tumble and flash-kicked that   
girl right out the window with him following downwards.  
  
Batman grimaced in the Joker's face as they both leaned forward for leverage. "Batman.   
Never. Dies."  
Joker was stunned. He couldn't laugh for a second. Then he burst out laughing wildly at   
the air.   
  
The device, as Tim would later find out was a Sonic Weapon first class, stolen from Powell   
Base three weeks ago by an expert burglar. It was usually impervious to its own attacks   
and was simply dug out of the rubble after use. It did this at the Bank. Harley and Joker   
were supposed to steal the money and weapon, after they were recovered by the authorities,   
supposedly.   
  
It errupted, knocking Azrael and Nightwing into the street with Batgirl, Harley and a just   
landed Tim. The building collapsed upon itself. It detonated on several levels, including   
the level where Batman and Joker had just been battling. The Knights of Gotham watched the   
building fall.   
  
No one moved for a long time. Nothing moved. Harley cried, kneeling on the pavement as   
rain began to drizzle. The police blockaded for blocks around. Tim had disappeared.   
Those called Dick Grayson, John Valley and Batgirl looked at each other somberly. Azrael   
ran to the rubble, digging at the rocks. Nightwing looked at Harley, crumpled and crying   
on the ground, then at Batgirl, who moved to get Azrael to leave. Nightwing approached   
Commissioner Bullock openly.  
  
"Two explosions in one night? I oughta haul you in for both counts." Nightwing almost   
laughed at the thought of being caught by police. Bullock wasn't so amused, he felt   
offended by he knew he needed to do some police work. Bullock trusted none of those madmen   
but Batman, and that was only marginally "Where's Batman?" Nightwing, emotionless, motioned   
toward the rubble.  
  
Bullock just stood there, looking confused as Nightwing, Batgirl and a reluctant Azrael   
walked away into the shadows.  
  
END?  



	2. Emotionless Memories

Batman and Robin Reborn  
Chapter 2  
Emotionless Memories  
Part One:  
  
'My name is Tim Drake. I am a warrior. I am trained in seven lethal martial arts. I have mastered two. I am one of the world's foremost authorities on Artificial Intelligence. My legal status is: deceased. I am a mechanical, electrical and computer engineer. I can hack any and all known computer or electronic security systems. I am one of the world's top five detectives, acrobats and espionage specialists. I have accomplished all this by the age of 19. I live and work in Gotham City. I have been an average student, I have discovered Batman's identity. I have been Robin. I have led a team of superpowered heroes to numerous victories, I have had a sidekick and girlfriend as Robin. I have quit. I have trained. I have become like the Batman. I have seen Batman die before my eyes....'  
  
I sat there in my chair, brooding... pondering the future. I looked at the monitors in the main Batcave. I say the main batcave because there are now several. Batgirl was the first to receive her own lair. Azrael as well has his own base of operations. Bruce was preparing for something... but what... what could have possibly left him and Steph as the only one in the Batcave...  
  
"Master Tim..."  
  
I turned slowly... Alfred didn't know yet... but must have been preparing himself for this for such a long time. He would read my heart the instant I looked at him, and he would know, just as I do, that I was not the one to reveal to him that Bruce was gone.  
  
"Miss Stephanie is in her loft resting softly..."  
  
I raised an eyebrow... the Batcave didn't have anything sounding so humane as a loft before... and Alfred hadn't been able to read me either. At least he didn't act like it. I headed up a ramp in the cave that had not been there before. Walking up a ramp, I was amazed and somewhat disturbed as things seemed to get brighter. Like day and night the Batcave, in a matter of 28 steps had turned into a soft and well lighted natural looking area. I saw a symbol of an R carved in a tree in this unnatrual green house. The place was warm, gentle, I noticed a computer area, a chemical observation table and realized that this was her version of a little Batcave. I was amazed as I walked past the Redbird and the Robincycle, stepping to a bed like infirmary table where she remain sleep. She was in simple, casual clothes now. Damn she was beautiful. Wonder why I left really... but as soon as I thought about that, as soon as I saw heard her voice in my mind's ear--it all came back to me...  
  
  
*** Three Years Ago****  
  
Tim Drake storms out of the main landing of the Batcave angrily. He doesn't react when his girlfriend, Stephanie, calls him. She chases him grabbing his shoulder somewhat aggressively, spinning on his heels she stared deeply into his eyes... her whole body seemed to soften with one word from her own lips:  
"Tim..."  
Tim narrowed his eyes. He took in the scene slowly... Tim was still wearing the Robin costume, minus the mask. He looked over Stephanie she was half in her costume and halfway out. Tim loved her, he really did. Robin and Spoiler had been so cool together, but he and she... were something so much more. Tim was Robin though and wasn't at liberty to reveal his name since that would basically reveal Bruce Wayne to be Batman. They had so many fights... so much tension... for what?  
"Tim..." She continued, convincing herself that he was listening... "Batman... Mr. Wayne... he didn't mean any harm, he needed someone to find you, Tim, and I had to know... I wanted to know so badly, but now I know you're name, Tim, and it's okay, cuz Batman says its okay, and you didn't have to betray him to tell me your secret..."  
Robin, Tim Drake just stared at the poor girl. He had nothing to say at all... what could have possibly captured how he felt... all the emotion in his head... every thought, no matter how he tried to be logical, seemed pointless, erratic and irresponsible.  
Her eyes pleaded with him to calm down, to love her like they had always wanted him to.  
  
"I'll be back... later..."  
  
Robin began walking... he walked back through the cave and into the armory. Tim Drake walked out, or the armory, just a guy in jeans and a tshirt. He was calm, composed, completely emotionless, like a good little Bat. He began his trek up the multitude of stairs which led from the Batcave to Wayne Manor. Stephanie ran and watched him go, silent tears running down her face. She had been totally rejected, but not on her own merit. She had invaded his personal space and she knew that.   
  
Batman knew he had betrayed his best protogee. The repercussions would last for a lifetime. He knew, deep down, that this had to happen sometime. There was never a twenty year old Robin. And for this particular one, at this particular point, the time was now...  
  
Tim looked over his shoulder at the cave. Batman stood there, hands together, brooding. As if he were trying to come up with a plan for a new Robin already. Tim looked at Steph. His heart lurched hard. She loved him, totally and truly. He couldn't have asked her to do anything that she wouldn't die trying. He was her heart and soul. She was his ground into reality, if he had one. Someone he identified with. He had to leave her. He was going to leave it all. Batman already had a replacement for him.  
  
Tim turned the corner and that was the last he saw of the Batcave for some time...  
  
PART 2  
  
That was years ago.  
Now I'm back in the cave, running my hair through my ex-girlfriend's hair. She's unconscious... she's also Robin now, just as I predicted. And now... Batman's dead. And just like I was replaced he will be replaced. Either me, Nightwing or Azrael will become Batman permanently. Or possibly some two-bit idiot will use Batman as his super-villain gimmick. Asking for trouble.  
I leaned forward as he began to plan his new life out. Tim Drake was dead... I killed him now that I think about it...  
  
****Years earlier*****  
  
"Tim, I know you're angry..." Richard John Grayson was such a nice guy sometimes it was sickening. Out of costume, away from his city, Bludhaven, out of his policeman's uniform, he was just plain Dick Grayson, an ex-circus performer and heir to the Wayne Fortune... most of it anyway. "But you know, deep down, Bruce has a plan. I don't know why you got cut out of it, of all people, and you have right to be as angry as you want..."   
Dick and I were riding down the streets of Gotham in a Rolls Royce. It was about 10:30. Batman was already out for the night, so was Batgirl. Steph was probably being trained in some bat-technique while Alfred supervised. I hopped out of the car with a backpack. He looked back in at the man who was most often referred to as Nightwing. "but remember, you're still you, even without some R on your chest."  
I smiled for a long second. "Thanks, Dick... you're one of the few people I'm actually going to miss..."  
Dick smiled back, and stared at the young man for a long time. I didn't like goodbyes, so I slammed the door and Grayson quickly drove off. I headed towards the train station. He had no problem walking through observing. He slid out back through a service exit and found what he was looking for. A group of boys sitting around in a circle.   
There was a small fire there near them. Several of them had white ciggarettes in their mouths. A drug dealer and his associates, his loyal customers. The drug dealer was identified most easily since he spoke coherently. "Aight, fellas, lets get this shiz out of here..."  
I stayed hidden in the shadows, hearing just the voice he wanted. "Freeze, punks."   
Two officers: Bullock and Montoya. Nice people. Good cops. Didn't like Batman though, especially Bullock. "Getcha hands above ya head, fellas, we can all go home nice and quiet and maybe even still switch back and forth between the opening monologues."  
I almost chuckled but knew what was going to happen. He knew this gang... he had brought several of them in before and tried to reform them. He knew where they met, and how the felt about cops and getting caught. So it didn't surprise me when one of them hopped up and clumsily reached for his gun, followed by the others.  
It didn't surprise Bullock either, who shoved Montoya aside as he leapt to cover firing at the leader.   
BLAM!  
The leader flew backwards a couple feet and landed on his back, eyes closed. He had just been shot in the heart and may have well been dead before he hit the ground.  
The other gangsters ducked for cover and fired rapidly at the two cops, who huddled behind dumpsters calling for backup. In the meantime, I tossed a rope around the fallen boy. His name was Alejandro Johnson. He was the baby of 4 kids. He loved basketball and Jennifer Lopez and knew every rap Big Punisher ever did. I dragged the dead or dying boy to cover. He took his pulse. There was none. With morbid efficiency I opened his back pack, first he place a hot chemical over the boy's face... in a few seconds he took out a mask.... A thin skin and laid it over Alejandro's dead emotionless face. The mask warped properly and stuck as though it were the own skin of Alejandro. Alejandro now was the spitting image of Timothy Drake, who escaped up a fire escape, but deep down. I knew I wasn't Timothy Drake anymore. I heard that suicidal people imagine their feunerals. I didn't imagine I was there when my dad wept like a baby. When Bruce stood over the grave and occasionally scanned the crowd for me, in disbelief. I was there when Steph stopped crying. She just stopped, she couldn't even feel the pain anymore. Most painfully though, I was there when I saw alfred break. It was a single tear that ran down his face, but it meant far more to me than any other reaction.   
And that was my last day in Gotham.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
  
Part 3  
  
Balance. Balance. Balance. Tim stood on a tight rope with one foot. In one hand he had a dummy, the size of the average woman. In the other hand he had a batarang. The tightrope was suspended above one of those dark depthless caverns in the cave while on the wall hung a dozen or so targets. Tim did a one handed cartwheel, throwing the Batarang as he spun. Then, as he righted himself, still holding onto the synthesized unconscious person, the boomerang like razor returned and he caught it. A target had been broken in the process. Tim did this over and over until he reached an out cropping where he landed softly and then put the dummy back in its place. Drake strolled out to the main cave and stopped suddenly.   
"We need to talk." A dark voice called from the shadows.  
Drake almost caught himself smiling. It was Dick's voice, and the older man had been smart enough to speak right before Tim had quite figured out who was here and what was happening.  
"We do?" Tim played off very stupid, to see how much respect he carried.  
Dick said nothing and Tim slowly turned around. Nightwing was straight-faced and unbending. He had been thinking long and hard, and once again, the original Robin was at a major turning point, but this time, it couldn't be solved by a new costume or a new Robin or anything like that.   
Tim had been doing well with straightforwardness with his colleagues. He continued this practice but with a Batman-like edginess in his voice. "You think you have to replace him don't you? That it's your duty somehow, don't you?"  
Nightwing said absolutely nothing. Tim was about to turn his back and walk away but Dick spoke.  
"You're not ready to be Batman."  
Tim froze. Almost every atom in his body froze. The temperature seemed to drop three degrees. He stared deep into Dick Grayson's eyes. It wasn't the same kid who had survived contagion... not the same kid who had become Batman for a few short moments when Klarion the Witch boy had come to town. It wasn't the same Tim Drake who had gone to Nightwing for advice, or had convinced him that Batman needed a Robin, or re-encouraged Richard when he felt he was letting Gotham down as Batman III. Now a young man who seemed to hold so much power stared nearly eye to eye with the man called Nightwing.  
"You know, and I know, that deep down inside... I AM Batman..."  
Dick was fast. He was an acrobat from ten years old. He had travelled abroad much like Bruce and now Tim had. His hands could barely be caught by most videocameras. On syllable 'man,' Nightwing's right hand lunged out at Tim's face with a raging force.   
Tim blocked it. Simply put he reached out his hand and cupped the older man's fist in his hand and pushed it away with a force equal to the given punch. Tim wanted to say 'no,' he wanted to say 'wait,' or 'okay, maybe I'm wrong.' Deep down Dick probably didn't want to be Batman at all, and he surely didn't want this fight, but as Tim blocked and they made eye contact, they both knew it was too late.  
Tim kicked out at almost the same time as Nightwing's other hand came at his gut. Tim twisted with the kick, brushing off the hit and connecting in Nightwing's side. The man simply shrugged it off and kicked at Tim's head with a hopping jump that put him at a hard position to hit. Tim gladly took the hit and rolled in the air with it, flipping sidewards as he kicked out at Nightwing's head, both still in mid air, Nightwing took the hit to his forearms and used it to flip backwards and lunged at Tim as soon as he touched the ground. Tim slid sidewards with a kick, but Nightwing grabbed him by the leg. Tim twisted and kicked with his free leg at Nightwing's chest. Tim dropped to the ground, flipped back up to his feet and charged Nightwing. Dick was definitely suprirsed and even though he struck out, Tim ducked the punch and grabbed the man's arm, leaning into him and judo slamming him into the cold concrete. Nightwing was recovering quicker now however and kicked up at Tim. Tim flew backwards in the air, over one of those chasms and landing with a thud and a half-bounce on the same stone platform as the Bat-computer.  
Nightwing leapt airborne. He spread his arms and descended like a condemning dark bird of prey. Tim reached behind him and felt his belt. He had an extendable staff on him, once his weapon of choice, now it was just a resort as Nightwing brought out his Escrima and brought them down hard at Tim's chest. Tim yanked out and extended his staff, barely blocking the hit. Nightiwing pressed down on the boy, both of them were sweating, using their strength seriously.  
"Tired yet?" Tim asked.  
"Not on your life..."   
Tim flipped Nightwing off of him by leaning back and kicking the guy in the chest, tossing him a good distance away, where the older guy landed on his feet and soon the steel bars were clanging rapidly as strikes and blocks were exchanged back and forth, forth and back, strikes and blocks and counterstrikes and counterblocks...  
  
  
--Years earlier---  
  
Lady Shiva. A legendary martial artist. Master of many forms, some of which she is the last holder of, or others, the supreme master. Batman once had his back broken, this was the woman to which he entrusted his re-training. She was to whom I went to get a boost for my fighting. She taught me things which I couldn't believe. She would often comment that my 'young muscles' were able to learn so much faster.   
We would go on for weeks at a time, with small breaks whenever one could hide from one's enemy. We played this game all across the countryside, ducking and dodging, striking and counterstriking. I ate, fighting, I slept with one eye open, waiting for her to find me and attack. I went to the bathroom, thinking about my next attack. Every single moment of my life was literally part of a fight. My brain began to reshape somehow. I remember that one break I took. I ate, drank something and slept for nearly 30 hours. It was kind of fun actually, but a few hours later I began a month long battle. It was literally a month and a half long. I took a two day break, maybe three, I'm not sure.   
I remember how that battle had eneded--we had picked up weapons. She had two short daggers, I had a metal staff, not a hollow metal staff mind you, I could have lifted that easily, but a literal steel staff, as though it were wood, and that's exactly how I had to handle it. We traded blows so fiercely that my steel was leaving impressions in her daggers every bit as much as her daggers scratched my staff.   
Faster. Faster we went, trading blows. I hadn't gotten a nap for several days, and it was hurting me badly. I was working hard to make my brain work, much less work well. She had sensed I was on autopilot but I could see that she may never have had a student this dedicated. That's how I could end this. She wouldn't let me win, not on purpose, but maybe I could persuade her.   
At that point were battling on the edge of an old building. I forced myself to work, to think, to become something better. I was able to knock her off balance. Only a second is what I needed. I used this moment to shove her sidewards, towards the edge. I kept my distance so she decided not to jump the considerable distance. That was when I moved in and she spun on her heels and began to block, but I kept pressing her. My determination was set. She was either going to surrender of go over the edge.  
She didn't surrender.  
I wasn't thinking. I was on autopilot. I saw an opening and I took it. Striking out at her gut I sent her careening off of the roof into the dark night air.  
  
----Original Time-----  
  
Nightwing didn't either. He went careening into the night air, but Tim knew he was going to fall. Tim had already been sure that he would secure this win, because Nightwing wanted Tim to win. Nightwing didn't want to be Batman, he didn't want to be THE best, he just wanted to be his best. That was okay... but it wasn't good enough for Batman. Never was, never could be. Tim grabbed Nightwing's leg even as he realized how totally he had lost.  
Dick laughed as Tim hauled him back on ground. They both stood up. Nighting was smiling, Tim wasn't.  
"So you want to be Batman?" Nightwing found some sort of comedy, where Tim did not. Tim knew that the wise-craking, fun-loving Grayson had always been there, but he couldn't with Bruce. Now that Tim was all straight and narrow, Grayson had plenty to say. "Are you even old enough to drink?"  
Drake had no words. He simply turned his back and walks toward the bat-computer. Tim types in some things and the display pops up with a picture of Tim and Batman from those early days as Robin. Tim turned towards Nightwing.  
"Does that look like me?" He demanded.  
Dick said nothing.  
"Does he act like me? Resemble me? Can he compete with me? Can he even relate to me?"  
"You're losing it, Tim."  
"Tim is dead, Grayson... he was killed in a small drug bust three and a half years ago."  
Nightwing just hangs and shakes his head.  
"You tell me why I'm here, then Dick, just help me out with why I'm here, or do I still have a reason."  
The entire cave falls silent. Only a few distant bats are heard, along with the hum of the bat-computer.  
Tim nods slowly as he sees it sink into Richard J. Grayson. "Well?" The young man says.  
Nightwing takes a long time to decide but eventually he just nods then looks up at Tim.  
The man... and he is a man now, sits in the legendary chair with his hands together. He leans on his hands and looks directly back into Nightwing's eyes.  
"Okay... so what if you are Batman... what happens next?"  
Tim nodded with a tiny half-smile.  
"Now we rebuild the legacy."  
"We?" Dick asks.  
"Steph and I. Remember, you're your own man, and so am I, can't have you putting in a good word for me with Babs and Valley, can I?" Tim is struggling to hold back his smile.  
Dick laughs as he walks towards the computer. "Of course, but if you ever want to get your own get up, I here there's another little town near Bludhaven..."  
The two men stand up and hug each other like men.  
They step back and look at each other for a long second.  
"Okay...Batman..."  
They both look at each other and laugh.  
"That's going to take some getting used to." Tim conceeded.  
"Yeah..." Dick left a pause. "You aren't really as serious as you are acting are you?"   
Tim looked at the man and slowly nodded. "Like a heart attack."  
Nightwing nodded with a sly smile as he hopped in his coupe and left the cave, headed for Bludhaven.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
  
Part 4  
  
"Master Timothy." Alfred stood behind me somewhere. Presently, Tim was working under the Batmobile, on some integration system for the car-to make it more personalized. I slid out and looked up at the amazing butler.  
"Yes, Alfred?"  
"Miss Stephanie has awakened."  
Silence.  
"I suspect you haven't been training your conversation skills."  
"Alfred..." I tried to respond but my brain kept running over the same spots. That meant right now, Steph was my only weakness. "I think you should tell her..." I paused again as the butler started to turn around. "How are you holding up?"  
"I'm always well taken care of, Master Tim." And he turned his head in such a way as to imply 'leave me alone' and so I did just that. He didn't answer my question. I knew Bruce had been like Alfred's son. At the same time, he seems to have promised the dead Waynes that Bruce would be cared for and safe. Alfred failed that promise. He outlived his master, his junior by nearly forty years. I could only imagine what that man must feel like inside.  
I sauntered on towards the armory and walked in. This place had all the costumes and weapons that we used. The Batsuit major stood there. A beautiful deep black with gloss and golden belt and symbol. Across from this was the Robin suit. The present one which made Stephanie look pretty dang cute. I walked along, admiring Nightwings old duds and Barbaras costume out of reach on the top... just for display. I found what he wanted. It was the suit... the same suit he had left before, hung in very same case in the very same angry haphazard way. They had collected dust. I got the message. Robin III was a faded memory. Robin II's costume, next to mine, was kept clean, sort of. It was dust free and kinda gleamed in the flourecent light. No one should ever forget what being unprepared does to them, especially when they work with Batman.  
Or if they are the Batman.  
I looked hard at my old costume... and opened the case. With great tripidation I took out the dark maks and put it over my face. It fit kind of tight now. I looked at myself in the glass there. I could see the Robin suit as if it were sort of over me. I felt sick to my stomach.   
I felt like I had betrayed my own self, and quickly yanked the mask off of my face, throwing it to the ground. I looked down at it and then up at the case. Slowly I reached down and put the mask in its place, straightening the costume and shutting the glass. No one should forget the pain that is felt when one of us betrays another. Not even for a second in the direst of circumstances.  
I walked out of the armory and looked over the cave. The Batcave. My Batcave. I slid back under the Batmobile and fixed the last few wires. Closed the hatches, locked them electromagnetically and slid back out, reaching back I pulled my hood over my head and slid on my special polarized glasses. I hopped in the car... it felt strange somehow, but I had no problem, since it had been so similar to the Redbird.   
Steph was going to have to wait... I had some loose ends to tie up.  
  
A few minutes later I stopped at a certain point. Azrael was a smart man. Over the past three years he most likely has grown even more brilliant, but the fact remained he was still a schizophrenic, and still was subsidiary to Batman. Now I had to convince him that I was Batman.  
I strolled into a Cathedral confidently. I stood there near the front, near an altar while the moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows, creating horrendous shadows and shapes. I heard a click and found it no surprise when he sleekly crept around the ceiling to get a look at my front before doing anything. I simply turned the other direction and headed for the exit. I heard his cape flutter as he descended. He was till an act-first-ask-questions-later guy. As got close, judging by the average Batman descent and the man's previous weight, plus a few pounds for muscle I slid sidewards and kicked at his side as he passed.  
He was about as surprised as any of us could ever be. He had assumed too much and he had paid for it. But he was mad, almost instantly, and from the kick I gave him, which his armor probably absorbed well, he rolled and stood, unsheathing his two blazing wrist mounted blades.  
"Valley." I called him out by his real name.  
Azrael grunted and tightened his fists.  
"I won't pretend to know what you're thinking, but you're looking for a new direction, for Batman, am I right."  
Azrael stepped out of the shadows. How could I have been so unobservant. How could I not have expected it. His costume was modified. It had pointy ears on top and a strangely changed Batsignal on the front.  
"I am Batman, boy... what are you doing here?"  
I narrowed my eyes. This was going to be a long night. "John Paul Valley. Azrael, yes. You are not Batman, not by a long shot. I am Batm..."  
I decided not to continue speaking as the 3 foot long blades struck out at my throat. I rolled backwards, under pews, which he proceeded to hack up. But even as he swung down I hopped up and kicked him in the head, backflipping off of his chest and judo push-dodging his attack.   
I had just about had my fill of fighting my teammates.  
Azrael sheathed a blade and reached behind him, quickly with a practiced motion. I did likewise, reaching into my own belt of goodies.  
Three batarangs flew at me. I acted at the last moment.  
CRUNCH  
Two batarangs met with my own trowing weapons and dropped to the floor. Azrael looked at me and I held up the batarang which I had caught with my two fingers. He looked at himself and saw one dug into his armor, and likely into his skin. I kept glaring at him and he also realized that his Bat-ears were missing.  
I had developed quite a few goodies, which Azrael was about to understand as he rushed me, torching and slashing pews to crowd my vision. He didn't know the half. I threw down a powerful flash bomb. He had polarized lenses so he wasn't affected at all by the blinding light, which was likely now visible for at least a mile away. The big hit was when I dropped an adhesive onto the ground, which he didn't notice since the light was so bright. His foot got stuck on it, right in that 5-30 second window, when it was most powerful and instantaneous.   
After that it was history. He lunged. He hadn't rigged his boots to be escapable. Poor guy. I knocked him around, carefully drawing him out from his stationary foot and off balance. Even with five foot reach, he couldn't pull off a win in this situation. Not like this. When I got close enough I detatched his helmet.  
Jean Paul Valley stood there staring at me. I figured with the helmet of his less violent personality would assert itself. The man looked at me blankly as he figured where he was and what was happening.  
"You beat Azrael?!" He looked at me obviously confused.   
I simply nodded and helped him up.  
"You don't recognize me do you?" I gave a half smile, nothing telling though, just enough to make me look more human and less... bat-like.  
"Robin?" He squinted at me.  
I almost laughed. "They call me Tim now."  
Valley nodded almost understanding, as if it all made perfect sense. And maybe to his type... my type... it should. He looked down at the Azrael costume, then at his boot. He knelt and ran his gloved fingers over the substance. Now it was hard, almost as the concrete, and his boot was melded with it.  
"What IS this?"  
I took a vial out of my miraculous supply belt, which seemed to soon rival the original Batman's own resourcefulness, and dissolved the substance of my own invention, Valley flexed as he began to replace his hood and mask. I was about to clock him when he gave me a reassuring look.  
"I have control of the avenger now, Tim. Relax." He replaced his costume and looked toward the night sky. "Can you show me how you created that compound?"  
I nodded. This was how I was going to win Azrael, by a favor of knowledge. I had plenty knowledge to feed him over time too. "I heard you had a Batcave."  
Azrael gave a nod as he fired a grapple line through the window into the sky. I followed, and we found ourselves running across the rooftops.  
  
---Years earlier----  
  
I was bounding from roof to roof. I had just gotten 3 hours sleep. That's what I was averaging. But not just any sleep. Deep, work and train 'til you're exhausted and fall out sleep. Waking up at dawn was also necessary, with me working three jobs here in Tokyo, I was bound to do everything imaginable.  
  
First job- mechanical engineer. Did I have so much as an Associate's in Engineering? Nope. But I did have a man who just happened to owe me his life working high up in the company. I had set him up pretty nice. A blaring truck and a few false documents and I was a working man. But I wasn't there for money... but for experience. Every spare moment there was spent studying plans, machines, chemicals, everything they had there. That was a 'full-time job,' but I usually only put four hours a day in, using the other four to sneak around the archives and labs and stuff, gathering info. My second job was at a computer place. That was fun. I loved artificial intelligence, so I had developed a computerized friend named 'Spock' in honor of my first dream: to fly a starship. But that's a story for another day. Spock organized my workload, cracked jokes, and did a lot of my basic programming for me. In the meantime, I would practice hacking and creating different systems to run anything... especially a car and jet. Preferably one's with a bat prefix. I got a good deal of my sleep at this job while computer created real-time images of me working. I also did some physical equipment.  
My last job was somewhat more shady. My third shift was put in on the black market. I was a smuggler of sorts. Its one thing to study criminology.  
Its another thing entirely to live it.   
I saved people when I could, but sometimes, guys got killed. And even those I helped didn't get out. They kept living on the edge, and eventually they ended up on the wrong side of the trigger. I learned a lot of Japanese curse words, which were pretty funny to me since they weren't the equivalent of various feces, sexual intercourse and eternal condemnation. I did more strenuous work-outs here between runs and shipments. You'd be surprised the weight rooms smugglers can afford.  
Then, after a few hours of that, right after the peak of the craziest part of the night, I would go get some sleep, almost always 2-4 hours. If there was something big happening I would take a day off and get some extra sleep.  
And so here I was with a briefcase and my standard black scooting across the skyline of Tokyo, Japan. I landed on my job's roof and slide through the service door on the roof. I skidded downstairs, and through a shaft very quickly landing on an empty toilet in the Men's restroom. I opened my case and changed into my business suit, exiting the stall and walking into my office, turning on the office lights. I was, as always, the first one here.  
  
--now--  
I did that for a year, and might have been content to do that for a long time... but Gotham was waiting...  
  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
  
I rolled back into the cave. The Batmobile was purring like a kitten as I parked it and the pad spun it around. I walked to the computer and started typing in some download routines. My brain was working so fast now. Batman. Gotham. The JLA. Young Justice. Information. I needed information. I had to know everything. Watchtower teleportation routines. What happened to Superboy? Wondergirl? Impulse? Secret? Spoiler...  
I turned around and she was standing there. She was in her Robin costume minus the mask. She was crying... hard. I felt my whole heart soften. My whole attitude about life seemed to change. Her face looked at me with ten or twelve different emotions. She was mad. She was hurt. Was she happy to see me. I felt something tug at my heart, so I smiled.  
She laughed and cried at the same time and fell to the ground. I ran over to her and wrapped my arm around her. She leaned into me totally, completely, holding absolutely nothing back.   
The funny thing was, I didn't cry. I had missed her, yeah, and she was still my Stephanie, obviously, but was I still Tim Drake? Was human enough to come back to her. The steady, unrushed beating of my heart told me I wasn't going to go out like that I was going to face the same problems as Bruce had, if not more, but I wasn't going to go out like a punk. Not today, not tonight... not ever.  
I picked her up in my arms, doing the old threshold carry and tried to set her in the chair at the Batcomputer. She still hung onto me, so I sat down with her still in my arms. A red light on the panel beeped. The main screen on the computer, which was now showing the progress on downloading the files on the JLA, was replaced by a batsignal piercing the nightsky. This was moved to a corner. As Channel 6, WGTH came on. Summer Gleeson, with just enough makeup to cover the first signs of wrinkling popped up:  
"Good evening Gothamites," She was hushed in tone and her backdrop resembled more of a warzone than an upscale party, her usual stories. "This is Summer Gleeson, and I am here reporting live from Gotham Plaza Towers where a crazed maniac has..." She glanced sidewards... "If anyone can help us..." She looked back and the camera and was rushed, leaning forward with mic in hand as her tone became more rushed... "The police... Batman... anyone! Please!"   
She began to run off the opposite side from where she had been looking but a man grabbed her by the waist, yanking her up and taking her under his arm, with her kicking and screaming as he molested her. In front of this scene however appeared a new visage. I recognized it almost immediately. By this time, Steph was looking at the screen as well.   
"Hello, Gotham." The voice echoed, it seemed, all through the cave.  
It was the one called Two-Face. Harvey Dent. One of Bruce Wayne's good friends early on. Now he was a deranged killer, addicted to chance. He was trying his luck in Tim's opinion.  
"Now, with the old Bat dead, The Five are the rulers of Gotham. I'm inviting the Mayor and Commissioner Gordon out to discuss the terms of our agreement. Until this happens, we are welcoming any visitors, but we're not guaranteeing anyone leaving...alive..." He gave that ugly half-smirk and flipped a coin. "Good luck, and Good night." He pulled out a gun and shot the camera.   
"Poor Summer." Stephanie pouted.  
"Poor us." I mused. "He's just drawing us out... that is... all of the Bat-protogees who could possibly cause a problem. He thinks we're stupid and are just going to all come crashing down on them so they can take us out."  
She nodded slowly. "So that's what we're going to do then?"  
I nodded. "With Two-Face running it, that means we still have a 50/50 chance of surviving anyway..."  
She grinned. "Better chance than most times, huh?"  
I nodded was ready to leap into action when I looked at her face to face. She admired me rediculously. I leaned over and kissed her. I felt a wave of warmth wash over me and realized I was still human. But even as I realized I was, I knew I shouldn't be. Besides, we didn't really know each other anymore. Tim Drake, I reminded myself, was dead. I set her down and turned toward the armory.  
"Master Tim." Alfred was standing there and waiting. "I've taken the liberty of updating one of Master Bruce's old suits. You do appreciate good second-hand wear, sir?"  
I walked toward Alfred and the Armory. I couldn't help but give a small smile. "Tim Drake is dead remember."  
"Very well, Master Draper."  
I stopped just then, it was right as I stepped into the armory room. I looked at him and he looked at me. I think we connected or something. I looked and there was one Batman costume in the active area. There were several back with the old Robin costumes. Bruce's classic was right there next to the Jason Todd. I looked at mine and put it on quickly. Stepping out of the Armory, I looked over the cave.  
My Cave.  
Alfred was so full of pride.  
Stephanie... no... Robin was so excited.  
I was excited. But I was determined. This means something, being Batman. It means the world to me, maybe more.  
And in that moment, when Robin and I started running towards the Batmobile, I realized that Tim Drake really was dead. Alvin Draper, or whoever I was, was very much alive. And he was here to stay.  
I was too old to be having identity crises, but I knew deep down, that there was a lot more to becoming Batman than a costume and the approval of the others...  
I was going to learn how much more.  



	3. 

Batman and Robin Reborn  
Part 3  
Dawn of the Knight  
Part One:  
  
Two-Face yelled as he pointed his Tommy into the air. "Get these pompous pincushions in the vaults, now! Gotta protect our most valued merchandise!"  
  
Two-Face was yelling down to the lower part of the banquet hall. There were thugs a plenty, but most noticably two men picked up the instructions. One was a short man in a suit. He had a long skinny nose and a monacle over one eye. "Quiet you, schizophrenic simpleton! I'm well aware of the urgency of the situation."  
  
Two-Face considered putting a bullet between the man's eyes right then, but working with this buzzard was manditory for completing the plan. The other man who took the order was a much larger man. He was called Bane. He was a monstrosity of strength and a fearsome example of cunning. He was getting paid, and had no argument, save picking up the nearest elites and tossing them into the vault, which lay open a good 50 yards away.  
  
That was three. 'Where were the others?' I wondered.  
  
"Aren't there supposed to be five?" Robin asked me, standing right behind me as I looked through the skylight. It was too easy. It seemed the floor below the skylight stayed clear. Robin kinda noticed this, but she was more likely to expect them to be able to react quicker. I knew better, because if I were them, no Bat protégé would ever get past square one.  
  
Moments later.  
  
The skylight above cracked, crashed and was smashed through by a sizable force. Two-Face and Penguin looked up with big grins on their faces. The grins faded quikly as an AC unit from the roof crashed through the electric net set for the Bat-kids. Short circuiting it and bringing it down with a crash. That short circuit browned out the entire floor.  
  
"Oh, damn." Two-Face growled. Bane simply narrowed his eyes.  
  
He grunted. "It matters not, I will still break the Legacy of the Batman."  
  
Penguin shook his head as his umbrella became iridescent, lighting up his immediate area. "Come on little Bat... I'm ready."  
  
He turned around and before him stood a young woman in the Robin costume.   
  
"Ah. The littlest bird... I've often longed to take you under my wing, to teach you as your father has failed..."  
  
Robin narrowed her eyes and reached into her belt. Penguin moved quickly for a man of his body type, he pointed the umbrella at her and bullets began flying, amidst screaming from the surrounding darkness. Robin was just fast enough, bullets caught in her cape as she threw a barrage of Bataragangs at the man, she disappeared into the darkness. Penguin laughed.  
  
"Flying away so soon?"  
  
"Not likely..."  
  
Penguin looked up, only to get caught in the face by a boot with an 'R' on the bottom.  
  
Elsewhere. Two-Face lit a match and threw it on the ground, setting fire to the carpet here, and in a way, condemning the building. As the flames lit up the area, the figure of the Batman opened before him. This Batman was younger, more vigorous, possibly more stubborn. He wasn't the same. There was something not quite right about him. He wasn't really the Bat? Not really, a pretender, the next in line.  
  
"Batman, you ain't." Two-Face laughed as he pointed his gun at Batman. Batman simply narrowed his eyes.  
  
Two-Face pulled the trigger, but Batman was already out of the way and diving over the edge of the railing. Two-Face fired blindly he stayed away from the ledge though.   
  
"Bane! Hagan! Where are you!? Get the Bat out of here!! " Two-Face yelled.  
  
That was exactly what Batman wanted to know. There were five members... Two-Face, Bane, Penguin, Clayface and... the last one was their other trump card. If Two-Face was wondering where Hagan was, then that mean the man had changed shape and was one of the party-goers. Allowing him to be anywhere.  
  
Batman glanced around, he heard a board creek and moved just in time. A massive fist came crashing down on the spot where he had stood a second ago.  
  
"I will break you!" Bane yelled as he ripped the carpet from the ground, tripping up Batman a little. Bane's other strikes met with Batman's cape and batarangs, but it was obvious that Batman was being chased.  
  
"You cannot win, little bat..." Bane boasted as he backed Batman into a corner.   
  
Batman now stood his ground. Cape still, hiding the rest of his body, he didn't flinch. Bane attacked with speed only sink-sized muscles could produce. Batman roared into action, releasing a large dose of dense gas, eliminating visibility. Bane wasn't fooled for a second. He was killer and a lack of vision didn't slow him down at all, it did cover Batman's next move.  
  
As Bane continued his narrowly dodged attacks, Batman fired off his grapples. Bane swung...  
  
'snap'  
  
A thick cable wrapped around his wrist and yanked him into the air. Batman sped off into the room. It was blazing now. Even as Bane rose again everyone realized that this fight was ending really fast.  
  
Bane looked through the flames at Batman. Deep down, Batman wanted the fight. He wanted to prove that he was indeed Batman. A flame flared momentarily and Bane was gone. Batman looked around. Two face appeared out of the shadows, then fell to the ground, tied up. Robin appeared of the shadows, being the one who dropped him.   
  
Batman and Robin looked at each other. They looked at the room. The people had been evacuated. The floor was collapsing. They began to run.  
  
Moments later they were swinging out into the night. Robin was carrying two hostages and she landed on an adjacent building. Batman was lifting Two-Face and Penguin. Batman continued his swing so that he could land on top of the Police Department. The thugs were still more or less unconcious. Robin landed shortly after and the two cops on the roof looked at each other incredulously.  
  
The turned their heads again and Batman and Robin were gone.  
  
Next time... the conclusion...  
  



	4. 

Batman and Robin Reborn   
Chapter 4  
Truly Batman  
  
  
  
"We should've gotten killed." The man who only knew himself as Batman sat in his chair, in front of the Batcomputer, thinking. He was born Timothy Drake less than two decades ago. Timothy Drake was legally dead. He had once called himself Alvin Draper. That was his only human name, and he would probably use it again.  
  
Now... he was simply Batman. He was talking to Stephanie Brown. His ex-girlfriend. His new partner, the latest Robin.  
  
They had just come back from their first successful mission. Word was spreading through Gotham about the return of Batman at that very moment. They had collared two high-powered criminals who had been prepared for their arrival.   
  
Robin simply nodded her agreement to his previous statement. "The fifth member never showed. I wonder why?" No answer. "Maybe we scared him off... I mean, no one really expected BATMAN and ROBIN, y'know?"  
  
Batman was silent.  
  
"Tim..."  
  
"I'm not Tim." He looked her dead in her eye.  
  
She wrinkled her nose. "Alvin..."  
  
He was completely silent and almost emotionless.  
  
"We're carrying on this legacy, and we did an awesome job... we kicked their tails."  
  
"A hitman. A lawyer. An entreprenuer and an actor." Was all 'Alvin' said. "What's the connection?"  
  
Steph took off her mask, as Alvin had already done. "The connection is the fifth man, and why he didn't attack."  
  
Alvin just got out of his chair and walked off. He stalked towards some unused crevice of the cave. Steph considered following him, but she didn't, she just worked the computer.  
  
--  
  
I was so upset. Bruce would've known what was happening. He would already know. I was already stumped. My brain ran circles. I had missed something. I had been out all night. The answer didn't pop up. It didn't appear before as it had when I was around Bruce. Nothing was clear, from the way we took down Two-Face to why Bane hadn't even tried to track us.   
  
I walked up an incline. I stood on the edge of a rocky crevice. A cave. Perhaps where Bat's stayed.  
  
I heard the noise, but it was so natural. They just surprised me. A bat flew by me into the cave. I turned around. There were hundreds. One flew directly at my face. I looked it in the eye. We understood each other somehow. I can't explain it. It just made sense all of a sudden. Everything I had been through instantly compartmentalized into portions I could handle. I stumbled out of the way and caught my balance. Bats flew at me. They flew by me. Brown bats engulfed me in a storm of beating wings and screeching sonar... I fell....  
  
--  
  
I screamed. Tim had just been attacked by bats!? He hadn't gotten out of the way, he had just stood there and stared like an idiot. I ran towards the ledge which he had been standing up, clambering up the slope I yelled.  
  
"Tim!"  
  
He appeared out of the pile of bats. I screamed and fell backwards. He leapt out, caught me in midair with a flip and landed safely on the main floor of the batcave. Needless to say I felt just a little bit embarassed, but it was Tim, so I was okay.  
  
He set me down so gently, but I could feel the power in his arms anyway. I looked him in the eye. He looked back at me, he had a slight grin, but it was different. He looked like...  
  
The only way to describe it was that he looked like Batman.  
  
"I know who it is..." He straightened his face as he leapt into the bat-computer chair. He tapped up some buttons. I leaned over him like any good Robin would do.  
  
"Who?" I asked.  
  
"The common thread. Chemical alteration of the body. All for different reasons."  
  
"There are a bunch of different cooks like that though..." I began thinking of Mr. Freeze, Poison Ivy, Joker, even Harley Quinn.  
  
He just nodded. "But only one man specializes in body-altering chemicals."  
  
My mind raced. "A Chemist? What other clue do we have."  
  
He gave a little smirk. Two-Face said "Get the Bat out of here." Bane didn't fight to incapacitate. He fought to kill.  
  
It dawned on me, even as the screen lit up with the image of the man in question. "So our new big enemy is..."  
  
He nodded as we looked up at the brown furred creature.  
  
"Man-Bat" we said together. We looked at each other.  
  
(This is in a way the end. I realize that the first chapter was the best, so unless you wanna read about Steph and Tim's relationship or a conflict with the new Man-Bat... this'll be it for a while.)  



End file.
